


if you need me i’ll be here

by energyboyeric



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Holding Hands, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Mentioned WayV Ensemble, One Shot, Power Outage, Rain, Sharing a Bed, but make it as soft as possible, i think, idk how to tag this ok, moral of the story is dont forget kun needs love too, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 08:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29822232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/energyboyeric/pseuds/energyboyeric
Summary: “What are you,” Ten asks jokingly, “scared of the dark?”“A little.”
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten & Qian Kun, Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun
Comments: 19
Kudos: 140





	if you need me i’ll be here

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by last night specifically when the power went out, very spooky.

March is an angry month. 

March is the uncertain in-between, the pocket of time after winter and before spring, the time of year when the earth itself seems cold and confused and lashes out because of it. They do say March comes like a lion for a reason, after all, forcefully tearing its way through the tranquility of months past, roaring and bellowing and begging for somebody to hear. 

It’s one of those nights when March is roaring outside the walls of Ten’s bedroom, winds howling and rain pounding in a rapid, uneven tempo against the thin walls. The bed across the room from his is empty and neatly made, and the storm raging outside seems to emphasize the fact that Hendery has gone to visit his family for a while. Ten welcomes the peace of having his room to himself for once, but there’s just something about a storm that makes you want to seek out companionship, isn’t there? 

The lamp beside his bed is on, casting a warm glow, his iPad warm in his hands from prolonged use and his playlist playing softly from the speaker on his nightstand. The music intermingles with the sound of the rain, forms a gentle, melodious cacophony that soothes him into sleepiness. 

He draws a line on the screen, then erases it, then draws it again, then erases it. The wind gusts outside. It’s one in the morning. 

Sighing, he shuts the iPad down, deciding that enough is enough. There’s only so much drawing you can endure before your hand starts to cramp up, before it feels like all the creativity’s been drained from your mind. 

He’s aware of the way the rain droplets patter against the walls, the way the wind shrieks and tears at the outer parts of the dorm; he’s aware of Leon hiding somewhere beneath his bed, and of Bella nestled in the curve of his legs. 

The light shuts off, the music pauses. 

Ten didn’t touch the switch, and judging by the sudden, pitch blackness leaking into the room from where the door is open just a crack, he safely concludes the power has gone out. 

Oh well- it’s bound to happen, every once in a while. 

Footsteps outside the door now, soft and deliberately quiet. 

“Kun-ge?” He guesses.

The door creaks open. 

“Power went out.” Kun sounds like he’s just woken up, his voice rough and gently rounded by that barely-there lisp that only comes out when he’s exhausted. 

“Uh-huh. I noticed.” 

“Funny,” Kun mumbles, “okay. Just checking.” No more footsteps, leaving or approaching. “It’s dark.” 

“It’s the middle of the night.” 

“Really,” Kun snarks, but his voice is still hushed and has that softened quality to it so it doesn’t quite land the way he intended, “I didn't know.” He pauses. Ten can't see him, but he imagines his expression, pensive, thoughtful, a tiny crease between his eyebrows and his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek. A particularly fierce gust of wind blows outside. “I can’t see shit.” 

Ten jumps. He hadn’t heard the footsteps draw nearer this time. 

“Neither can I,” Ten agrees, wondering when Kun had managed to slink so quietly further into the room. It’s unusual for him, to stay in one place for so long, to seek contact for so long. Kun tends to flit between people like it’s his job (it sort of is), constantly keeping a read on everybody in his vicinity. 

“I should,” Kun says between a yawn, “check on the kids.” 

Ten laughs softly at Kun’s way of referring to the younger members as the _kids._ “You room with the kids,” he reminds him, “and I can hear Xuxi snoring from here.” 

Kun hovers somewhere in the vicinity of Ten’s bedside, just standing. 

“What are you,” Ten asks jokingly, “scared of the dark?” 

“A little.” 

Ten pauses, noting the uncharacteristic waver to his voice, the uncertainty. He still can’t see Kun, but he’s not sure he knows what this expression looks like on him, not sure how a vulnerable Kun looks at all. 

“Oh.” 

“Kind of stupid, huh?” 

“No,” Ten says sincerely, wishing he could meet Kun’s eyes, “fear isn’t stupid, ever.” A long pause. The wind throws the rain at the walls with such velocity Ten can almost feel the tension. “You can stay in here, if you want.” 

“I have company in my room.” Kun sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. 

“Xiaojun and Yangyang have never made decent company, even with the lights on.” That makes Kun laugh a little, at least. It’s just odd, to hear him sound so open, to see him step down from his steadfast position as leader and ask to be led instead, for once. Even though their ages might as well be the same, Kun carries a level of maturity that makes Ten forget that. He’s handing Ten the reins for a moment, he realizes, silently renouncing control, _trusting_ him with control. “C’mon, then,” Ten offers, parting the empty bedspace next to him, “get in here.” 

He can almost feel the palpable hesitation. Kun’s one of those people whose personal space is sacred, who cherishes his alone time. 

Ten feels the bed dip more than anything else, smiling to himself just imagining Kun lying there, stiff and straight as a board, staring at the ceiling through the darkness. 

“Don’t tell anybody about this?” It’s technically a statement, but Kun says it like a question. 

“I wouldn’t,” Ten reassures him honestly. He reaches a hand over in the dark, curious and seeking to locate; his fingers land on the thin fabric of the shirt Kun wore to sleep tonight, landing to rest lightly on his chest. Ten feels it rise and fall unevenly beneath his hand, his heartbeat quick. “Hey,” Ten murmurs, keeping his hand there, “breathe.” 

Kun exhales somewhere close by, a soft sort of sigh. Of all things, Ten wouldn’t have chosen the dark as something that would bother Kun; he knows him to be almost painfully sensible, logical, the vast majority of the time. He’s always been a guiding voice of reason, a critical thinker. 

Even a voice of reason has to be unreasonable sometimes, he supposes. 

A hand comes to rest over his, still feeling out the erratic rhythm of Kun’s heartbeat. He can practically feel the weight of Kun’s eyes on him, although it’s impossible he’d be able to see him in the pitch blackness of the dorm. 

There aren’t any words exchanged for a while, some immeasurable stretch of time that feels both longer and shorter than it is, distorted and warped, an odd pocket of simple existence in between night and day. Ten can only feel the warmth of Kun’s hand resting tentatively over his, an anchor, perhaps. Speaking seems sort of futile anyways, an unneeded mode of communication, especially when everything feels vaguely surreal. 

“Thank you.” Kun sounds smaller, meeker than usual. Ten is struck with the revelation that for all of the protecting Kun does, sometimes he needs to be protected too. His hand remains perpetually against his breastbone, feeling the gradual slow of his pulse. 

He wishes he could do more, besides that one point of contact, fingers silently splayed out over Kun’s heart. Perhaps he if he were anybody else, Ten wouldn’t hesitate to pull him closer, shield him from what scares him. But he’s still Kun, there’s still a layer of respect, a careful boundary, that prevents him from doing so. 

So that’s all there is, is the two of them lying there, Kun’s heartbeat steadily slowing like it’s Ten’s fingertips that are calming it and the only link between them Ten’s half-outstretched arm. A connection in the dark, a link between two minds that otherwise tend to clash when in the daylight. 

Eventually, Ten’s fairly certain Kun falls asleep, his silence somehow becoming softer. Strangely, his grip on Ten’s hand tightens. 

The storm still rages outside, Xuxi still snores in the next room over, Leon still hides beneath the bed, Bella’s still curled up in between them. Ten lies there, listening to nothing but the pattern of Kun’s breathing next to him, and closes his eyes to the darkness. 

March is an angry month, sure, even with Kun’s soft, even breaths intermingling with the sounds of the wind and rain. But that’s all the more reason to find the gentler things in the in-between moments, he thinks, those drier respites from the downpours. 

**Author's Note:**

> listen this was supposed to be cuddlier but it didn’t really work so. whoopsies. honestly this is the softest dynamic ever i kind of want to write more i cannot get enough of it.


End file.
